Invasion As You Know, Our Blockade is Perfectly Legal | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Hex L,

Darth Empyrean · Dec 5, 2017

On the edge of the system, watching the coming storm…

Aboard The Technicolor Beat stood The Slave; an agent of the ren outside their order. It was decided by one of their masters, a certain [member="Samka Derith"], that he perform acts they would not; but today was not that day. They were their own masters, and he was simply an observer; more out of curiosity than outright enjoyment. The thing was, The First Order intrigued him greatly, their massive autocracy and its propaganda perhaps got under his skin.

He enjoyed their stalwart behavior and bigger than life persona. It reminded him of himself, vaguely; but perhaps that was ego speaking.

Sitting in his chair aboard the bridge, he idly watched through simulated glasteel to view the battlefield forming on its own. His ship was generally hidden well enough to not be noticed, as it had an untold amount of sensor masking measures to better allow it to disappear. Painted black, it was nearly invisible to the naked eye, but those sensitive in the force may very will sense its very distant presence; most notably The Slave’s. His dark aura had a tendency to waft about, and sicken those within a number of areas nearby.

As Cybele idly hummed as she performed this system check or that, The Slave simply watched with enthusiasm as the two forces moved to match each other and eventually open fire. His ship wasn’t likely to do anything of the sort unless he was engaged; but that was what his numerous capital weapons were for. He was fairly confident he could take out the largest ship of either fleet if he really wanted to.

A grin swept across his face before chiming in to Cybele;

“How’s the ship looking? We still undetected?”, he said idly.

“For now, John.”, she said.

He made a guffah like noise at her coy response; but let it slip past as he continued to watch. It was a game now, to wait and see.

[member="Cedric Grayson"] │ [member="Lysandra"] │ [member="Arken Lussk"]

Kiyron · Dec 5, 2017

[member="Cathul Thuku"]
#teamalliance
Excubitor
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The wizened SIS officer stood in his quarters, listening to the alarms and alerts that echoed through the ship. It was time for battle and the word from the Mando'ade had been correct. War was breaking out once again. Kiyron rubbed his hands through his close-cropped hair, still finding it strange at how the durasteel felt when it came into contact with his skin. Was he even still human? Or had enough of him become a machine that he was more machine than man now? He'd never been able to reach that decision and yet, somehow, it hardly seemed to even really matter.

Not when war always simmered through the galaxy. His infiltration work had paid off. He'd gotten wind of the Imperial movements and had been able to brief the Alliance with the information he had. Unfortunately, things had not gone as he had expected, and he found himself evacuating rather quickly. His cover was suspect now, but in time, it would cool off, and he could return to the mission.

For now, he was aboard Therapy Command. That name always amused him, serving as an independent intelligence liason with the task force. Also, that of security. As ships grew more and more advanced, it became more and more feasible to board a ship and hijack it from the inside rather than destroying it from outside. He wasn't sure why that was the case, but he would work with it. Keep the ship safe and give boarders more than they bargained for.

Arken Lussk · Dec 5, 2017

On the edge of the system, livin' like larry...

A larger than life persona had to be let down sometimes. Shake your hair free, kick off your boots, and sit back with a nice bag of crisps - which was exactly what he was doing. Turning a million credits into many times that amount didn't happen overnight, and definitely not without a lot of footwork put in by its sole proprietor. So young Lussk spent his free days at ease, solidifying the social media claims of being a bum perfectly correct. Especially so on the Technicolor Beat. It was a party ship after all, it was a waste not to use it otherwise. Sometimes.

Victor had so obediently carried a plush chair into the bridge upon his request, in which the young man reclined and watched the fireworks show begin. Various monitors and holoscreens had been tilted towards him, providing an ample amount of situational awareness without compromising their sensor signature. It took a little bit of processing power but such handiwork was made possible by Cybele.

"Hey John," Arken chortled, reaching into the bag for another crisp, "How long are we staying under the radar? I wanna see what this thing can do. Let's get some scrapes and scars."

[member="The Slave"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Lysandra"]

Zark San Tekka · Dec 6, 2017

Turbolift 39J, Supercarrier The Itsukusk
Outer Heliosphere, Sullust System
Galactic Federation of Free Alliances

"The Supreme Commander will explain everything."

Vice Admiral Zark opened his mouth to speak again, but as he processed what he had just heard no words escaped his lips. Now that had taken him by surprise. It was true he hadn't seen Supreme Commander Nemo Ven in any of the rushed High Command meetings the Jedi Master and commander of the Alliance Fifth Expeditionary Fleet had taken part in since his chaotic arrival on the capital, but he had simply assumed that was because Ven was in some emergency session even his clearance level wasn't privy to.

He had been called back to Sullust from maneuvers to discuss suspicions of heightened logistical activity on the Imperial side of the neutral zone, and had made it just in time to FLEETCOM station to witness all hell break loose in response to the sudden appearance of a First Order armada straddling the Rimma Trade Route and Hydian Way galactic south of Sluis Van. Zark had been in the room for Therapy Command's red alert databurst, but soon after he had been almost literally pulled off the station by the Galactic Alliance Guard and placed on a shuttle to the Itsukusk.

A turbolift ride which had seemed to take forever came to a rapid and yet hardly perceptible halt, and the admiral and his tight lipped Guardsman escort stepped out onto the vast, cathedral-like command deck of what had once been the pride of some terrible ancient Sith battlegroup. Alliance tech had been jury rigged all throughout, particularly clustered around what could only be described as some form of battle altar. Its purely ceremonial componentry had been dismantled, but there was still the inescapable appearance of cultists worshiping at the massive holodisplay projected before them.

And leading the sermon was the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force.

"Vice Admiral," Ven, an aging and somewhat grizzled Mon Calamari returned Zark's salute, ordering helm to plot a jump to hyperspace before turning back to motion for the Jedi flag officer to follow him. On a bridge this massive, a ready room was not strictly necessary for privacy, the two of them could simply walk out of earshot of the others, "Glad you could make it."

"Where is Admiral Tevv, sir?" Zark asked, blurting out a question that had been on his mind since he had gotten to Sullust. Sieb Tevv was normally the one called upon to command the Defense Fleet supercarrier in battle.

"Admiral Tevv..." Nemo trailed off, exhaling slowly, before continuing, "...is on safari. In Wild Space. Needless to say he is currently unreachable."

"You're joking," he shook is head. Hope that medically prescribed fresh air is worth it, Sieb.

"I am not."

"Then who is taking command of the Itsukusk?" Zark asked, even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"I am, vice admiral," the Supreme Commander scrutinized him carefully, "And you're my new executive officer."

"Your orders, sir?" he said without skipping a beat, raising his prosthetic arm in another salute.

"Help me bring justice at last."

Darth Empyrean · Dec 6, 2017

On the edge of the system, contemplating a strike...

The Slave continued to groan as now even Arken got involved with the name calling. A sigh and a half later, and he turned his sulphuric gaze to his otherwise lazy friend;

“In all honesty, as long as it takes. I’m more interested in watching, this time around.”, he said idly before turning back.

“... But maybe.”

His eyes stayed transfixed on the Galactic Alliance’s vessels, their various set ups prepared to engage the opposing fleet all while he simply gazed on. In truth, he wouldn’t mind opening up The Technicolor Beat’s weapons, but he wanted to see how this First Order fleet might work itself before he got involved; once more a great indication of how large his ego was.

Cybele’s hum broke his train of thought before he glanced up to her, quickly iterating a new command;

“Cybele, charge the weapons as much as possible without getting us noticed.”

“Understood, John.”

[member="Arken Lussk"] │ [member="Cedric Grayson"] │ [member="Lysandra"]

lgmmrm · Dec 6, 2017

#teamalliance
Sullust Base
Primary Objective: Reconnoiter L-49, assist fleets there.
Secondary Objective: Make Red Squadron Great Again
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Just a few more connections and...." Jarck watched as the Event-Horizon engine came to life. Finally he'd gotten his RZ-1 back from maintenance, it was a pain to keep up, but Jarck far preferred it to the new A-wings, "Perfect. At this right I think she's ready for battle. Send ol' Ironie my regards for letting me steal his A-wing while ya'll were patching mine up." the technician stared at the A-wing for a minute before giving a small chuckle, "Just don't bring this one back with any more scorch marks, Flight Officer-" Before the Tech could finish his sentence, an ear-splitting alarm could be heard throughout the base, accompanied by the orders of the bland-voiced comms officer,

"All Pilots, Set Alert Condition 1. Repeat, all Pilots, set Alert Condition 1. Red Squadron Prepare for launch. Your Squadron Leader will brief you In-Flight."

Jarck immediately started zipping up his flightsuit. "Get this fighter to tube three. Make sure Red Five's is right next to me." "Aye Sir." He was going to take the base's RZ-1T out to help five prepare for his A-wing certification, but that would have to come later. He forced himself into the cramped cockpit and started running preflight checks, securing his helmet before closing the canopy and setting all his systems for a launch using Sullust Base's maglev system. It was a long checklist in a fighter with a lot of systems and no astromech droid to help manage them, but most of the checks were quick and painless.

He grunted as the A-wing was shoved by the individual loading system into the Maglev tube. Throttling up his thrusters, he checked his repulsorlift and signaled for the tube to arm. As the blast doors opened in front of him, he grimaced as the acceleration slammed him into the back of his seat, before the feeling of weightlessness set in as he began to ascend out of the planet's gravity well.

Two A-wings and Red Five's X-wing fell into formation next to Jarck as they moved into Finger Four Formation, just off the right-trailing wingman of Red Leader's finger four made up entirely of X-wings.

"Jhuagar, You take lead of Element Bravo-2. Red Leader, this is Red Ten, Flight Bravo is in position."

"Copy, standby for briefing."

After a few minutes, a similar transmission to Jarck's rang over the commlink from Flight Charlie, a flight consisting of two A-wings (the Flight Leader and Element Leader) and two X-wings as trails. Following very quickly was the voice of their fearless Red Leader.

"Pilots,

It appears the First Order's placed a fleet inside our borders. Galactic Standard Hex L-49 is a jump away here, pushing the A-wings, which is exactly what we're going to do. There's a couple of carriers in the system already but SFC wants some of their own eyes in the system, not just squadrons assigned to carriers. Because us Reds just happen to be the fastest squadron in the Sullust system right now, they've tapped us to do their reconnaissance. The Intelligence I'm getting right now is spotty, our boys are too busy fighting to give us accurate reports, that's where we come in. What we do know is that this fleet is sizable. We are not to engage directly until we've linked up with the command in system.

Bravo Flight will drop from hyperspace towards the middle of the system, Element Bravo-One will pull ahead and use their scanners to reconnoiter, Ten, Eleven, that's you. Element Bravo-Two will keep a distance from them and cover their 6. Five, Nine, that's you. The rest of us will jump just outside of the system and wait for your databursts. Prepare to receive jump coordinates."

Jarck began to double check his navicomputer as the datalink started to feed it the coordinates to his jump site.

"Jump in five four three two -" As he heard the word two, he punched the button to trigger a jump, grinning as he was jerked out of realspace and into the abyss of hyperspace.

Finally, some real action.

Cyrus Tregessar · Dec 6, 2017

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BigolJfoANw

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Ravager \\ Unforgiven-class Battlecruiser

Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: En route, Hyperspace

In Vicinity: [member="Cable Shike"] | [member="Castor Ren"]

The Strong Survive

For centuries the sons and daughters of House Tregessar had lived and died by that creed. By hand and blade and gun they had crawled their way to the top of a cruel mountain, anchoring their step with the corpses of the fallen, friend and enemy alike. That was the way of the world on Axxila, and those born and molded under that bitter sky saw the universe in the same light. An endless struggle to be fought, an everlasting war to be won. How could peace exist, if the strong were not yet the strongest? How could you still live, and not know.

They had sized victory once, in a sweeping but carefully measured offensive that had seen half a dozen major systems pass into the fold. Triumphant, they had overextended, were blunted, but stayed steady, and bloodied their enemy in kind. It could not be seen as anything but a victory for the First Order, but it had been a cautious strike, with a great deal of strength held in reserve.

Too much? Perhaps, but no decision made in the heat of battle ever had the clarity of hindsight. In the end, it would not matter.

The defeated had taken to that constant refuge of the weak, politics and arbitration. They had tried to craft some unifying document to embolden and preserve their faltering spirits. The Ruusan Accords, they called it. A mockery, the pitiful playing games of power, mimicking those who stamp them out. But it had been enough to rouse the Supreme Leader once again.

The war machine of the First Order, never truly idle, had swung into action with renewed purpose. The border fleets had been strengthened but unlike last time remained behind the lines, eschewing the obvious probing skirmishes that had prefaced the last offensive. Reconnaissance vessels had led the way, Shadow-class corvettes skirted the edges of known space and fed sensor data back through a relay chain of satellites, probes and FIPV-9 patrol craft. There were few surprising reports, just corroboration for information that had been collected for months in the wake of the invasion, highlighting the quickest and most well-document hyperspace routes in the region.

The second wave had been small ships, escorts and frigates, mostly the ubiquitous Type 849. With the Shadow-class corvettes utilizing their miniature interdictors to allow for precision jumps and rapid deployment, the 849's arrived, dumped fields of Gravity Mines at the most likely ingress points, and jumped out. It was a stopgap effort, designed primarily to frustrate any rapid response forces who decided that action trumped any sort of decision making. The typical routes from Sullust, Sluis Van, and Polis Massa were the most heavily mined, with gradually decreasing numbers of the devices distributed according to complex algorithm. The scientists who had developed the formula had been incredibly positive. 80% chance of successful interdiction, they had said. If they arrived at that point.

Cyrus knew better than to trust that, not with the seasoned veterans of the GADF as his opponent, but he would take any advantage he could get. No one ever won a war by playing fair.

The FIV Ravager arrived without fanfare into a normally nearly empty sector of deep space now furious with activity. The handful of populated planets present were deemed political, economically, and militarily insignificant, Central Command had not even bothered to land troops. Instead, five space stations, massive interdiction platforms with vastly increased range and power, able to project their gravity wells across vast swathes of space, were deployed at key points.

The overall goal was simple. Lock down the major Hyperlanes and cut off any secondary routes, and choke the lifeline of supplies that fed Lothal, the malignant thorn in the side of the First Order.

Much of the fleet had already arrived, in small groups around the Interdiction Stations, or larger ones clustered around the individual commander. Overall, most of the ships were elements of the Battleforce 6th Fleet and thus ostensibly subordinate to Fleet Admiral Rausgeber. But Cyrus himself was present, obviously, as were many more senior commanders. It undermined the Fleet Admirals authority, but to try and organize things in any other way would simply prove unmanageable given the broad nature of the battlefield.

Planning staff had assumed two likely courses of action for the GADF. The first would be to try and hit each station at a single time with the bulk of their forces, and rely on weight of numbers to breach the defenses. Given the general dominance of the First Order Navy in a pitched battle, Cyrus deemed that approach unlikely. Instead they would probably try and hit each station with a strike fleet at the same time, relying on extensive usage of fighters and boarding craft to sow chaos and draw tight battlelines into drawn out, individual engagements, where they could feasibly claim an advantage.

Five stations. The interdiction web could weather the loss of two without much degradation, and stay functioning (to some degree) with just one. The real question was, just how much blood was the Galactic Alliance willing to spend?

"Designate the Keeper-class Stations as guarded units, Station codenames to follow. I want regular reports on their status and the integrity of their defense fleets. Ensure the blockade orders are received and acknowledge by all strike group commanders."

Those orders had been briefed ahead of time to all vessels. Civilian ships, merchant or otherwise, were to heave to and prepare for inspection and boarding, or be fired upon. Alliance and ORC military vessels were to be fired upon on sight. The Grand Admiral's direction was clear in that particular case. They'd had their chance to surrender. It was less clear-cut when it came to the merchants. On the one hand, the blockade was going to be enforced, but First Order vessels had explicit orders to not waste time or effort chasing fleeing civilians so long as there were military threats in the area. Though they had no way of knowing, a merchant captain who decided to run for it would likely find himself not pursued, at least for now.

The codewords for the Stations displayed across the central holoprojector. Station Hapspir, Station Barrini, Station Corbolan, Station Triaxis, and Station Wormturns. There was no artful or tactical significance to the names, just as there was no significance to the places they were deployed. Just arbitrary points in space that could, at least for the moment, effectively hold an entire sector hostage.

The Ravager's escorts winked into existence around it, keeping a loose formation with plenty of room to maneuver as incoming threats appeared. More reinforcements jumped in, bolstering the fleets around each station. They would keep arriving for a while, the Keeper-class stations took a long time to spin up their Gravity Well Projectors and distribute their relays, but once that field was up any new arrivals would have a long way to travel to get to the fight.

Cyrus watched the proceedings in silence for a while, and found himself wondering about idle things, like what had prompted the sudden shift in policy for the First Order, or the presence of the Knight of Ren on his ship, something he had never been burdened with before. The hand of the Supreme Leader at work, perhaps? Eventually, bored with his musings, he turned towards Commodore Vayyrel.

"Sound General Quarters, Commodore, make the fleet ready for battle."

WolfMortum · Dec 6, 2017

Allies: The First Order

Opposition: [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Halron Corr"], The Galactic Alliance & All who stand with them.

Present Company: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member="Ara Zambrano"], [member="Elensa Jari"], Omega Four-Five-Nine & Special Forces Squadron "Iron Mantle".

Special Inventory: Click Here!

It felt like another lifetime, their last great excursion taken against the horde armies of the Galactic Alliance seeking to overcome their already peaceful worlds of Bespin and Hoth. The last time that Brennan Cabrol had felt the heightened rush of adredaline sweeping through his veins upon the cusp of war, it had surely have killed him if it had not been for the First Order Security Bureau and the gracious generosity of [member="Samka Derith"] that had saved his life.

The memories of flames engulfing his body as he had unleashed hell upon the enemy of the Supreme Leader at the expense of his own still returned to him most nights, what might have wrought horror upon a normal man of his stature however had been replaced in angry and lust for vengeance and the rejuvination of his reputation among the Knights of Ren, but too, and most importantly, his recognition of self and the christening of the new body yet to bleed in battle that [member="Darth Carnifex"] had offered him at the behest of the new Queen of the Pacanth Expanse, Ara Ren.

Upon the bridge, some distance away from that of Sieger Ren's acknowledgement, [member="Elensa Jari"] stood at his side. She, his new Apprentice and very early into the Order to be seeing such open and violent trauma. Brennan Cabrol had insisted to his superiors that she join him in his endeavors, if not to prove her loyalty than to otherwise demonstrate her abilities and future use to the Order. Not yet defined in her position among her fellow Disciples, Brennan expected that his new and overly independent student would soon begin to make her mark upon history and branch out in what was to become her life service to the First Order.

No longer a Disciple of the Order, dubbed Caehl Ren, her Master stood with his eyes to the viewing port that spanned the starboard side of the head of the Destroyer, the FIV Executioner and Goliath representation of the Supreme Leader's vision for the Galaxy. A robe of black sat loosely atop his Armor, the hood covering the majority of his helm save for the black visor and silver face that masked his identity and would echo his intent to stand as one of Sieger's Elite.

Within one of the primary hangars far below that of the bridge, nine personnel all gathered within a designated quarter meant for their preparation in the war to come, worked amongst themselves to do exactly that. Today would be the new dawn, that first splash of red to light the sleeping sky and bring into fruition the new day, the day of the First Order. Both Iron Mantle and Omega-Four-Five-Nine had been positioned under the command of Caehl Ren since his return to duty. Elevated to a position of Command, the Knights of Ren were all skilled tacticians across a large variety of fields, yet his was never meant to be sat behind a star-chart only to bore himself with the barking of orders across the comm's; no, Caehl Ren had informed them already that they would all be bathing in the blood of their enemy today...

The three Disciples of Ren had taken well to their new subordinates, typically distanced from those outside of their Order, Delengtha himself had taken something of a liking to the Commander of the Special Forces unit; perhaps encouraged by his own inability to wield the force and a shared love of fire-power. Nocturnus and Arkaos Ren were less than excited though these specially trained soldiers gave the two brothers a distraction from fighting among themselves and thus worked over-all to benefit the group at large.

There were six of them in total, the Special Forces Unit dubbed "Iron Mantle" for their Iron Will to see their missions through no matter the cost. Their loyalty utmost and every time they entered the field of war, they did so knowing that capture would see the First Order deny all knowledge of their association, a purely black ops infiltration unit outside of such large scale operations the likes of this one, they were more accustomed to working as ghosts coming and going in silence.

Their debriefing had all come from Caehl Ren before he and his apprentice had moved to ascend the great giant and adhere to the will of their visionary, Sieger Ren. Much of the initial engagement would be taken upon the Fleet for which the vessel they inhabited rode at the head of formation. Until further notice, their concern would be the defense and stability of operations within until receiving further instruction from up high. They had been instructed to suit and load up, the announcement that they were due to leave hyperspace echoing across the hangar before the Destroyer dropped out of FTL.

"Alright people, time to kick some ass" came the eclaimation from the Squadron Commander, Alia Fedahkin. Rising to their feet, the band of troopers all decked out in their Armor moved towards the rear of the Hanger, followed by the Omega. Taking point just shy of the Furious Class Corvette's boarding ramp, they began to haul in their equipment, explosives and other tools of bloodletting for what was to be another glorious day for The First Order.

Ellie Mors · Dec 6, 2017

FML

Orbit, Sullust

Affiliation: Galactic Alliance, Her Allies, [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Zark"], [member=Raph Thule], [member="Alexandra Morrow"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Objective: Make It Home By Midnight

What was it with government bureaucracies and their incessant mountains of paperwork?

It had been months since the Incursion - months! - and here she was, filling out more paperwork that more-or-less put her as a reserve in the navy as a direct her time with the Alliance in that sortie. She wasn't the best they had, she would never consider herself such either, but she was certainly someone they had the means of forcing into service if it became necessary. Nadja had gotten out while she could, of course - no doubt partying it up on Coruscant, or getting ready to expand her quaint little company into Thyferra - but Lily was stuck, for the second straight week, filling out more and more applications, consent forms for emergency medical aid, and all the other silly legal jargon that she simply signed off on as soon as physically possible.

In a way she didn't mind the forced enlistment, despite the added stress that it piled on to her duties as the monarch and head of state for the entire system of Empress Teta, it gave her something to focus on. Were it about anything - anyone - else, someone she could have vented about to any number of the governors and other bureaucrats, it probably would have been much easier to move on from, but she had to be the stupid twin and go off and have a fling with some Sith that probably didn't even flinch when she ran off. But that was then - the past - it didn't matter anymore. That's what she told herself every morning when she got up, every evening when she took the pain medications for the blaster wound she was still recovering from in the back of her thigh, and every time she woke up in the middle of the night to the realization that she was still alone.

"Alright, Ma'am, I just need you to sign the rest of these forms and that should be it for the day." A protocol droid said as it teetered in following the hiss of automated doors. Her eyes rolled as she realized they weren't even giving her the common courtesy of an organic officer to finalize her reserve status with the Alliance. She'd have to call her father after this, let him know she was planning to drop by and see he and Danger on Life Day later that month - she hadn't seen him in a while, now that she thought about it. "And I suppose that after signing this paper I'll have some kind of farcical role in the navy?" She asked with a bit of irritation clear in the tone of her voice. It was a pity droids didn't have many means of visibly communicating through facial expressions besides the two bars over the protocol droid's optical sensors - she could go for a reason to not let this headache of a year get the better of her. "I apologize, Miss Kuhn!" It stuttered, showing signs of needing a memory wipe perhaps, before it composed itself and conveyed the rest of its reply. "You will be assigned command of this vessel - the Red Veil - and the accompanying capital ships as part of a standing reserve fleet. Ideally they will remain in the Empress Teta System and the surrounding regions of the Core, to protect Coruscant, Empress Teta, and other points of interest and their assets, but you may be required to see active combat in the case of war." It explained, Lily's hand already furiously scribbling information down into the "forms" that were stored on the datapad that the droid had handed to her when she had chastised it prior.

It was, roughly, around the same time that [member="Cathul Thuku"]'s voice came over the command ship's intercom, perhaps patched in by someone on the bridge - they were presently located in a room cleared out specifically for this process. "Well, Mister Droid, I suppose we were just in time, then, weren't we?" She said with a sigh. Her life was consumed by this constant cycle of work and conflict nowadays, it seemed. Better than the alternative, she supposed, but it was still sobering to get torn from the cushy life she grew up as a party-throwing firebrand and forced to become little more than a uniform. "We are in luck, indeed, Commodore, I wish you luck in this conflict!" It replied in agreement, retrieving the datapad from her outstretched hand before it fled the room. 'Commodore Kuhn? I sound like some kind of endangered species.' She thought with a slow nod of disapproval. But now was the time for action - and apparently it was her job, now, to act.

It had been some time since she was last in uniform - actual uniform, not just something that fit the attire of the military culture. The last time she was in any kind of uniform assigned specifically to her, with an emblem for her rank and system, was when she was a student at Anaxes, unless she was counting the ceremonial royal garb she'd wore on the very same ship to the Incursion fleet engagement. Yet her she was - Commodore Lily Kuhn stood at her seat of command on the bridge of the Red Veil, finally making good on that education that had cost her father a fortune over a decade ago. A pity she didn't have Nadja to advise her this time around, she was good to keep her level headed and calm, but she'd have to learn to live without that help. "Miss Thuku, this is Lily Kuhn answering your distress call - we have your coordinates, and will be arriving within the hour from Sullust." Lily said as she leaned into the command panel that was situated at just above hip-level, her index finger pressing hard into the toggle for the subspace transceiver.

"Alright, attention - yes, yes, I know, it has been a long, a very long, month for all of us Jakob." She said, momentarily interrupting herself to retort to a navigator's rather audible groan. "I don't like news like this just as much as the rest of you, but we've received an alert," Lily began again, pausing to think of how best to word the severity without making everyone as irritated as she was. "..Red alert, apparently.." She noted, somewhat in a nonchalant tone as though she didn't quite believe the twi'lek's report were quite as important as she made it out to be, but it was an alert that was sent directly to those on Sullust and in orbit, so there was certainly at least some truth behind it. Didn't make her feel any better about it, of course. "Ehem - we've received an alert from Miss Thuku near the border between First Order and Alliance space. As part of our special reserve status," A roll of her eyes at the lattermost comment, "we will be departing Sullust to assess the situation and engage if necessary." She explained.

"I want us out of this gravity well and in hyperspace in ninety seconds, Gregor." Lily added, directing the command to the second-in-command, as she stepped back to sit in the chair of command.

'I am not getting home by midnight, am I?'

Ship Name: ANS Red Veil Ship Class: MC180 Progenitor-Class Super Carrier Shield / Hull: 2500/2500

Hangar: 5 Squadrons Chiroptera-class Interceptors (50 Total) | 5 Squadrons B-8 Blue Jay Starfighters (50 Total) | 5 Squadrons Raid-Class Bomber Model B (55 Total) | 5 Squadrons Locust-Class Starfighters (50 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Liberty Ship Class: Citadel-Class Star Defender Shield / Hull: 1800/1800
Hangar: 3 Squadrons Locust-Class Starfighters (30 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Synergy Ship Class: Endurance II-Class Fleet Carrier Shield / Hull: 1040/1040
Hangar: 3 Squadrons Locust-Class Starfighters (30 Total) | 2 Squadrons Raid-Class Bomber Model B (22 Total) | 1 Squadron B-8 Blue Jay Starfighters (10 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Fortitude Ship Class: Fortress-Class Cruiser Shield / Hull: 900/900
Hangar: 1 Squadron Chiroptera-class Interceptor (10 Total) | 1 Squadron B-8 Blue Jay Starfighters (10 Total) | 1 Squadron Locust-Class Starfighters (10 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Focus Ship Class: Lancer-Class Frigate Shield / Hull: 500/500
Hangar: No Hangar
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Recovery Ship Class: Sublight-Class Assault Frigate Shield / Hull: 500/500
Hangar: 1 Squadron Locust-Class Starfighters (10 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Ship Name: ANS Restitution Ship Class: Sublight-Class Assault Frigate Shield / Hull: 500/500
Hangar: 1 Squadron Locust-Class Starfighters (10 Total)
Actions: Hyperspace Travel Enroute to L-49

Jaius Sovv · Dec 6, 2017

Location: Hyperspace
Objective: Things Fall Apart
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: First Order
Proximity: [member="Natasi Fortan"]

Observation Lounge

President Jaius Sovv knew why he was here, and it was not in the interests of peaceful coexistence.

Throughout his time as a 'guest' of Grand Moff Fortan, if such internment could be considered in that way, the First Order had kept him carefully walled off from anything that might be considered privilege information. He only had access to portions of the same Imperial sanctioned data feeds as any other citizen, allowed to keep up to date on current events beneath the layers of propaganda as one of the privileges afforded a prisoner of his political stature. But the head of the Sullustan Council was not a stupid man, and even before the war machine all around him began to mobilize he had suspected something was coming.

His time west of the neutral zone had proven far less traumatic than he had feared staring down the threatening visage of Supreme Commander [member="Asharad Graush"] at the armistice signing on Kaeshana, even enlightening in some respects, but it was still impossible to forget his otherness among these Imperials. And yet, where Jaius had expected to find decadent corruption among their nobility, he had to his surprise discovered a patriotic efficiency to rival that of his own people's and worlds throughout the Alliance. Where he had expected abhorrent atrocities committed routinely by the Order of Ren and their adherents upon a suppressed populace, he had instead discovered a more disciplined and isolationist Darkside philosophy, albeit still terrifying in its ideals and scope of power.

President Sovv had been beginning to believe there could be a chance for peace between them after all, when slowly something had seemed to change.

"I don't suppose you know how to make a Sonic Servodriver," the aged Sullustan lifted his heavy eyelids in mild amusement as the Grand Moff expertly crafted his request, substituting the difficult to acquire Sullustan gin for a local variety. Sovv raised his proffered glass in toast, one of the few they could agree on, "To Dosuun and Sullust."

Jaius was all too aware of the irony of that statement in this moment, but nevertheless he spoke the words earnestly. It was true that in many respects the Sullustan's fate was in her hands, but in some ways the two of them were simply pieces in a game that was larger than either of them, with only a single viable move on the board. He didn't entirely blame Natasi for his current predicament, for he had come to understand after the fact the tremendous amount of pressure she had been under from her people to exact justice for the Kuragin tragedy, an Alliance operation during the war that had accomplished its objective but at far too high a destructive cost.

The truth was, while it was inconceivable for him to consider a Grand Moff his friend, an appreciation for each others' apolitical insights had dulled much of President Sovv's animosity for Natasi Fortan, to the point where he thought of her far less as an enemy and more and more something akin to a respected rival. Theirs was a difference of ideology, not comprehension. They understood one another's positions perfectly well, each simply thought the others' preposterous. And so, with no ground to be gained there any time soon, two keen intellects had honed in on pursuits with little bearing on galactic politics.

"Age before beauty, your ladyship," he answered her, gesturing for her to take her seat first as he tittered at his own bad joke. It grew into a guffaw as she shot him a glance that made clear she was most certainly not amused, but there was motivation that went beyond grandfatherly humor, for while the Grand Moff was quick to her seat President Sovv took a few moments hobbling along with the aid of his First Order manufactured hovercane before gingerly lowering his aged frame across from her.

"My father taught me to play," he remarked, analyzing the space between them as his wrinkled features considered potential opening gambits, "He was the best in our entire warren."

A long lifespan had not yet dulled his wits, for Jaius had also some vague impression of the political turn things had taken for Moff Fortan these past few months. As their Supreme Leader had taken a more active role and rallied the hardliners around him, it appeared from his brief and scattered perspectives that the more moderate influences were being sidelined. Even now, with what he could only imagine to be an impending dissolution of the armistice they had both helped build, Sovv could not bring himself to hate this woman.

Instead, he devoted all of his prayers through the Force to safekeep those brave souls who would not live to see the next cycle. Not to mention a continued nursing of his mixed drink.

Duke Dyson · Dec 6, 2017

#teamalliance

Jax was barely awake when the alarms sounded off indicating Rogue Squadron's arrival at the hangar bay which would be very shortly. Sitting at he side of his bunk he rubbed his eyes with a soft groan, just a few more minutes would be nice... He had gotten enough sleep required but still felt rather tired and wanting to just drift off, it had been a very good dream and snapping forth into reality startled him into a bleak atmosphere. Once he actually stood upright he began zipping up his flight suit. His astrometch unit wheeled itself over with an enthusiastic chirp, that got a chuckle out of him. "We better get going, huh buddy?" The droid chirped back a whirring reply as to say get a move on.

"Alright, alright." He suited up with a much more rapid pace now than intended, the droid must have stirred a little motivation inside. It was soothing to have it's company strangely enough.

There was a cool air breeze as he stepped out onto the hangar bay, It helped to contrast with the sweat he was already feeling under his flight suit which he had gotten used to by now. He could vaguely remember when it had been first issued and the urge to rip it off and fly in casual garments came naturally but now Jax wore it with pride. The blazing color of orange showed no true significance, they were just the standard uniform but he felt like a spark bursting through the stars, a fire that would never be tamed, striking necessary fear into those who opposed or tried to overthrow the alliance and for what it stood for. It was better than the blue or the green that he had seen scrambling about on deck.

Reaching his station he allowed the deck crew to do their regular job as he jumped into the cockpit, he could have easily made some touch ups of his own but that was just stubborness taking over and the truth was they knew what they were doing so he just ignored them and the bustling faces as they carried on with their business. Everyone here had a job to do and he just had to do his without any second thoughts. There was no time for a room briefing so the Rogues would be briefed in-flight.

Doing his preflight checklist, Jax secured his helmet over his skull tightly as the canopy of his starfighter came to a close and left him to get all his systems ready for a launch. His eyes were focussed ahead on the blast doors as he powered up his thrusters, watching every starfighter available descend through it. A surge of acceleration kicked in as his own fighter followed suit into the blackness of space shortly afterwards. "Let's show em' what we can do." With a smirk he punched in the recieved cordinates as soon as Rogue Squadron briefed everyone on the plan. Space became a vast array of stars soon enough, making way for hyperspace and the blue wormhole.

Robogeber · Dec 6, 2017

Objective: Secure the Sector
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Dako Asturo"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"]
Enemies: Those who dare defy the First Order. [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Zark"] | @Sor-Jan Xatha
Theme: Imperial Probe/Aboard the Executor | John Williams
Location: En-route to Interdiction Station Tiraxis.

The crew of the FIV Reprisal stilled itself as they heard the all too familiar sound of the Fleet Admiral's approach. The melodic hum of a repulsorlift generator. The Imperator of the Sixth Fleet had arrived. Despite having held command for a number of months at this point, the approach of the white, chrome droid which held Carlyle Rausgeber's mind was one which still inspired attention, and for younger crewmen, fear. The holographic display of the late admiral's face gave scarcely any detail, as he paraded down the catwalk, followed attentively by his four soldiers, clad exclusively in black stormtrooper uniforms. The Skulls.

Standing attentively at the end of the ramp, as if he were some sort of lapdog, Rausgeber's bane and apparent second in command, Commodore Horace Beckett. Platinum hair, slicked back with a neat, grey uniform, Commodore Beckett offered a salute. "Admiral Rausgeber, we have proceeded according to schedule." The younger officer offered, smirk forming on his taut upper lip. "We will be arriving shortly sir, and-"

Rausgeber breezed past the officer, brushing past him, before looking right into the deep blue lines of hyperspace. The Skulls did the same, menacingly standing guard around Rausgeber, rifles held in their hands, locked and ready. The hologram finally moved, and proceeded to look at Beckett through the reflection. "And, Commodore?" He inquired, his voice rigid, holding a distinctive edge to it. It was nearly the same as his biological one, however, it now held an unnatural quality to it.

"And, we will be rendezvousing with the Dauntless and her battlegroup momentarily." Beckett finished, the pride having deflated entirely at the Fleet Admiral's reaction. The officers smirk turned to a scowl, and his deep brown eyes joined the reflection, betraying the hatred at the embarrassment before the bridge crew. His pale cheeks began to glow a deep red, as officers and crew performing their duties now watched the power play.

"Good..." Rausgeber drawled, voice trailing off as his gaze turned to the space before him again. "I will assume command Commodore Beckett," The Admiral informed him, his voice dismissive of the younger officer, "You are relieved," The Fleet Admiral coolly informed him, "You will await further orders in the hangar. Prepare our... specialists for battle."

Beckett bit his lower tongue and acquiesced to the request, bowing his head. "As you wish, admiral." The officer glowered. Rausgeber turned to face him, content in humiliating his subordinate. With that, Beckett raised his fist, saluting the officer, before turning back and marching away, brushing past the Skulls in doing so.

Rausgeber returned to watching the stars. A silent vigil. For some of the crew, they saw it as some form of power saving regimen. For those who knew the Admiral and had worked with him, it was an all too familiar sight. Only now sans the cigars and the stench of powerful alcohol.

The Reprisal was the first of the Fleet Admirals' vessels to emerge. Within seconds afterwards a combined strike force of cruisers, destroyers and carriers all began to deploy before the might of Sieger Ren. The assembled vessels. The fleet deployed and began to spread out, across Traxis, as if on pre-determined flight paths. Corvettes began to fill out the spaces in defences, priming themselves around the Supreme Leader's vessel, and blind spots on the station.

All transpired as the Admiral had demanded. All part of a plan he had run through a thousand times with simulations. Rausgeber knew without a doubt there would be fighting. There was no way an action of this scale could be resolved without some form of reaction, they all knew that. Using the new droid brain he had received spent hours on calculating scenarios for this moment. However, one question evaded him. That being the size of the reacting force.

Thousands of holonet stories, reports and testimonies were tabled, deciding what the size of the Alliance's response would be. Whether or not the political capital existed for the Alliance to survive. Whether primal fear and survivalist realpolitik would set in, seeing cliques like the Core throw outlying worlds like Lothal to Sieger's wolves in the name of security and easiness. Whether politically this could be exploited. Although no solid answer existed for the First Order to draw upon, which meant, unfortunately no answer existed to the query. At least an immediate one. But Carlyle was sure he'd find out.

However, reality returned, "Alert the assembled vessels to our arrival." Rausgeber barked to the Reprisal's Comms Operator, "Tell them, Imperator Command has arrived."

6th Fleet, Battlegroup Imperator, Imperator Command

Name: FIV Reprisal
Vessel Class: Supremacy-Class Star Destroyer
Shields: 1600 | 1600
Hull: 1600 | 1600
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Conqueror
Vessel Class: Vanquisher-Class Star Destroyer
Shields: 1600 | 1600
Hull: 1600 | 1600
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Bombard
Vessel Class: Mandator-Class Artillery Cruiser
Shields:1000 | 1000
Hull:1000 | 1000
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Devstator
Vessel Class: Mandator-Class Artillery Cruiser
Shields:1000 | 1000
Hull:1000 | 1000
Attacking:

Name: FIV Chase
Vessel Class: Fortan-ii Class Corvette
Shields: 200 | 200
Hull: 200 | 200
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Lion
Vessel Class: Fortan-ii Class Corvette
Shields: 200 | 200
Hull: 200 | 200
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Cavalier
Vessel Class: Fortan-ii Class Corvette
Shields: 200 | 200
Hull: 200 | 200
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Raider
Vessel Class: Fortan-ii Class Corvette
Shields: 200 | 200
Hull: 200 | 200
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Skipper
Vessel Class: Locust-Class Torpedo Frigate
Shields: 386 | 386
Hull: 386 | 386
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Fortuna
Vessel Class: Locust-Class Torpedo Frigate
Shields: 386 | 386
Hull: 386 | 386
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Enforcer
Vessel Class: Locust-Class Torpedo Frigate
Shields: 386 | 386
Hull: 386 | 386
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Firestorm
Vessel Class: Dagger-Class Escort Frigate
Shields:244 | 244
Hull:244 | 244
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Inflictor
Vessel Class: Dagger-Class Escort Frigate
Shields:244 | 244
Hull:244 | 244
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Restoration
Vessel Class: Dagger-Class Escort Frigate
Shields:244 | 244
Hull:244 | 244
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Interception
Vessel Class: Mukhitar-Class Corvette
Shields: 171 | 171
Hull:171 | 171
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Fury
Vessel Class: Mukhitar-Class Corvette
Shields:171 | 171
Hull:171 | 171
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Lancer
Vessel Class: Mukhitar-Class Corvette
Shields:171 | 171
Hull:171 | 171
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Gavel
Vessel Class: Mukhitar-Class Corvette
Shields:171 | 171
Hull:171 | 171
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Roar
Vessel Class:Halberd-Class Frigate
Shields:380 | 380
Hull:380 | 380
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Torment
Vessel Class: Halberd-Class Frigate
Shields: 380 | 380
Hull:380 | 380
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Crusade
Vessel Class: Halberd-Class Frigate
Shields: 380 | 380
Hull:380 | 380
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Vengence
Vessel Class: Boneshatter-Class Cruiser
Shields: 380 | 380
Hull:380 | 380
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Trepid
Vessel Class: Charger-Class Corvette
Shields:160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Brigand
Vessel Class: Charger-Class Corvette
Shields:160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Guardian
Vessel Class:Charger-Class Corvette
Shields: 160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Aggressor
Vessel Class: Charger-Class Corvette
Shields:160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Pursuit
Vessel Class: Charger-Class Corvette
Shields:160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Name: FIV Bespin’s Pride
Vessel Class: Charger-Class Corvette
Shields:160 | 160
Hull:160 | 160
Attacking: None.

Ara Zambrano · Dec 6, 2017

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Executioner \\ Resurgent-class Star Destroyer
Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance | [member="Bryce Bantam"] \\ Status: En Route, Hyperspace
In Vicinity: [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Elensa Jari"]

Equipment: Tagged throughout post and in Signature

Post Theme: Let’s Go to War

:: …one minute to reversion. ::

The sharp staccato of boots against metal rang out against the mechanical crackle of the Executioner’s comm system, the cool voice dying as the message came to an abrupt halt, it’s purpose served with little flair. The smooth dome of her helmet resting in the crux of her elbow, cool metal a comforting weight as her path drew her deeper into the heart of the ship, towards the nebulous darkness pulsating within.

The harsh blue and silver of Hyperspace spread before her as the Master stepped onto the bridge, the bright lines catching her gaze for a moment before sharply turning away. Nausea rolled through her gut as she fought back the waves of anxiety such travel always elicited within, although hardly the debilitating fear she’d once known intimately. Pausing in a moment of utter stillness, feet planted firmly against the deck, Ara stood, eyes closed, letting the turbulent emotions flow over and past her.

Warmth pulsed between her breast, an amulet resting hidden far beneath layers of Zeyd-cloth and amourweave hanging nestled against skin. Present not as the Arch-Queen of Panatha, but in her duties as Master of Ren, Ara had once again donned the mantle of Sarathiel Ren, anonymity ensured by the presence of Ba’Olin. The unfamiliar weight of her unbloodied weapon, a lightwhip forged as a gift for her new role by [member="Samka Derith"] , hung from her hip, it’s abilities untested beyond that of the training rooms deep within the Bastion on Virgillia. Today, she would step onto the battlefield devoid of a title secured by blood and family, instead, embodying the position earned by her merits alone.

Crimson irises snapped open, a soft, sinister smile gracing her face as she took in the gathered forces upon the Supreme Leader’s flagship, cool calculation shining within.

:: Thirty seconds to reversion. ::

Tongue pressed up against the roof of her mouth to prevent the grinding of teeth as she waited for the tell-tale stomach jerk of the Star Destroyer dropping out of Hyperspace. The countdown pierced the sudden silence that fell across her mind, old habits of meditation flashing to the forefront, even as her heart hammered out a sporadic rhythm within her chest.

:: …Three. ::

:: …Two. ::

:: …One. ::

With little preamble, they descended upon the empty space of hex L-49 in a flash, the hulking shape of Sieger Ren’s vessel one of many now amassed in Galactic Alliance space. Releasing the breath she’d been unwittingly holding, the Epicanthix stepped further towards the center of the room, towards the others who awaited the escalation of hostilities, for none believe they would go unchallenged.

In truth, they were counting on it.

A small half-bow offered in the direction of their Supreme Leader’s form, the man lost in his assessment of the assembling of forces, her gaze cut instead to that of Brennan Cabrol, lips curling up in an open warmth towards her friend and constant companion. Much had changed since they had last fought side by side, the battle of Bespin a turning point for the once Knight and Disciple, both having touched death at the other’s hand. The hard curves of his most recent gift, a versatile set of armour, hugged her curves beneath the robes she wore, a nod of appreciation once again directed to her friend and constant companion.

A cursory examination directed towards the woman beside him, his newest apprentice, taken on shortly after his return to the Ren following the events aboard the abandoned Sith research station, Thanatos. Known to the Master by name only, the Disciple was offered a silent greeting, the Master focused on the business at hand, rather than the pleasantries of welcoming one of their newest members.

”Your forces are gathered and prepared to depart with urgency, I pressume?”

Moving to stand just to the right of the Knight of Ren, she spoke, the soft purr underscored by anticipation and bloodlust. Her own craft, the Crimson Sparrow awaited deep within the hanger of the Executioner should they have need.

OOC Note:

With permission from [member="Bryce Bantam"] and Co. I am using Ba’Olin as an unfinished factory sub. That being said, I will only be using the Aura Supression/Masking properties. If you have questions or concerns about the item, please message me. Looking to use it for flavor more than anything else ^^

Let’s go to war!

Kyrel Ren · Dec 6, 2017

Enroute to Hex L-49, aboard the Supremecy Class Star Destroyer FIV Reprisal

Objective: Secure the Sector, Destroy Alliance Forces.

Allies in Vicinity: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="HK-42"] [member="Varas Kyrel"]

Enemies: Galactic Alliance

Equipment: In Signature.

Post Theme: The Ruins of the Serene

It was time... It was finally here. The moment the Enforcer of Ren had longed for, for months. The Alliance would know the wrath of the First Order. For too long has the First Order let them persist with creating lawlessness in the Galaxy, that their time for judgment has come. Their time has finally come to face justice for their crimes. They thought that the War was over, no it was far from over, but now it was not a War between governments or soldiers of different sides. This would be apart of something larger, The battle between Dark and Light had begun, and whoever won this battle, the battle between good and evil and for the fate of the Galaxy could forever tip the balance of the Force. And now with the Supreme Leader leading his forces personally, Kyrel couldn't help but grin as his enemies would know the full might of the Order. The blockade of the Hydian way would be the first step towards the destruction of the Alliance.

He sat within his quarters meditating on the dark side as the Star Destroyer traveled through Hyperspace, he had made preparations before leaving to bring several squadrons of TIE Silencers. His most proud creation for with it the destruction of the Alliance would be at the hands of the most capable pilots in this battle, of course, Kyrel planned to pilot one along with his daughter who had been stuck to his side ever since she was created, creating a bond between the two unlike anything else. Of course, she would know of his hate of the Alliance. When he was a Disciple he witnessed the Alliance and the Jedi murder innocents on Kaeshana, and ever since then he became convinced that the First Order was doing the right thing by eliminating their kind from the Galaxy, and as the Supreme Leader's Attack Dog he made it his purpose to see them wiped from the face of the Galaxy.

Of course the more he thought about it, his anger increased, his rage intensifying and could be felt in the Force, his eyes struggled to stay closed as a dark storm was brewing. As he sat cross-legged on the floor, several objects such as his Lightsaber began to lift off the floor, memories coming back to him, his defeat at Kaeshana, the screams of innocent Scientists and aides, the sounds of Battle echoing across his mind, bitter freezing cold and the smell of brimstone. More objects began to lift from the floor, and still, his anger did not stop, only increasing as the visions turned to sounds. The screams of dying stormtroopers, the roar of TIE Fighters, lightsabers clashing... All the while he was about ready to release his anger when he heard a voice that he had not heard since speaking to him softly in almost a pleading matter. "Thomas... Please."

His eyes snapped open... The dark orbs now a blazing yellow filled with fury, as the objects such as chairs, and his Lightsaber dropped to the floor. As if speaking to no one else after looking around the room for only a fleeting moment. Kyrel said his Core World accent sounding colder as the words exited his lips. "No! They will learn.. The Supreme Leader is wise and he will make sure that true peace and justice is restored." He gritted his teeth grinding slowly as if he was going to snap them, his fists clenching slowly his rage never ending and thus increasing his powers in the Dark Side. His Armor was not yet prepared yet and so was only dressed in his dark robes with a Ren helmet to hide his identity.

After he made sure he was ready, he could still hear the voice of his Mother in his head pleading for him to always turn back that the Supreme Leader would crush him after getting what he wanted and had no use for him. To which he always replied angrily his tone filled with venom inside his head. 'You are wrong... This is all that there is. This is my purpose... This is all that I have. You worthless old fool.' Of course, the voice stopped but would continue to haunt him the next time, and it started to happen more frequently. Whether this was a sort of damnation for the path he has chosen then so be it, but now he was here to follow his life's purpose at last and that was to assure the First Order's dominance in the Galaxy and the destruction of the Light.

He tried to cease his pondering, for now, now was not the time for that nor should he indulge himself in such things. He could sense the Supreme Leader was close and as the proximity alarm shouted bringing the Destroyer out of Hyperspace, he could see many of the First Order's vessels such as the Concordia Grand Moff Fortan's Flagship, to which he remembered protecting during the expedition to Kaeshana, and as he looked at yet another Reasurgent in the darkness of space he could feel the Supreme Leader's dark presence on board the craft, and grinned knowing now that the Supreme Leader was done with hiding in the shadows and as he stared out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back he spoke softly. "By your Command Supreme Leader, I will not fail."

He then stepped out, stormtroopers, TIE Pilots, and Officers rushing to their stations as Kyrel approached his Daughter's quarters. Feeling his anger momentarily subside now replaced with a quiet joy. A joy that all the Battles from Kaeshana, Mustafar, Skor II, and Hoth had led to this very road. That he would now be able to finish his personal score with the Alliance, to be an angel of death and avenge those that have died fighting against the tyrannical Alliance would finally come at last, that he would now share the fight with his daughter had come and now he never felt so alive as he did now. As he entered her room before the battle began, he had a thought that pleasantly echoed through his head, and with that a vision, a vision of true peace and security, a vision where the Jedi are gone and the Alliance is dead. He thought silently to himself as he entered as the thought filled him with a great sense of clarity the more it echoed in his head. 'The Galaxy doesn't need a Hero... What it needs is a Monster.'

Wilhelmine Dahma · Dec 6, 2017

Objective: Formation into blockade
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Dako Asturo"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Asharad Graush"]
Enemies: GA and Allies
Theme: 528491

Inside of the FIV Minotaur, Morro gazed out into the great expanse of space, always an awe-inspiring sight for the young Chiss officer. The matte grey interior of the Star Destroyer cocooned around her, soothing in its methodical engineering, the temperature chilled to a boreal 7°c, which is how the Captain liked it. Unlike Admiral Rausgeber, the view only provided a brief respite from the ever-changing strategy in her head, the detailed minutiae of playing out various battle scenarios. Morro turned towards her personnel, taking more solace in the preparations than reflections on the void around them.

Her life had changed dramatically since the death of the infamous Admiral and the birth of his droid form. Her loyalty towards him remained unchanged and her love for him? Complicated, but she was nothing if not dedicated to the cause.

“Your promotion suits you, Captain,” remarked Commander Feskin, the human male once her peer and now her underling. Calm, but graciously emotionless was her response a simple, thank you. His compliment was more personal than she’d liked but Morro was not a temperamental leader. She had no capacity for outbursts, letting something so trivial cause her to lose her focus.

However, two thoughts caused her pulse to race occasionally, though outwardly she would not show distress. While to the layman, the blockade appeared ordinary - inspection of civilian, merchant and transport ships, and of course a violent engagement with anything that reeked of the Galactic Alliance military - the presence of high-ranking officials and they mythical Sieger Ren himself lent a gravitas that had Morro’s mind aswirl with theories. Secondly, she could not help but worry for her companion, Rausgeber, unwilling to lose him yet again. The cold comfort would be to assume he had a backup plan, like the first one, in case that were to happen. The Chiss herself did not fear death. That was barely a blip in her steady blood-pressure.

Once the Minotaur and it’s escorts made the jump, the Hydian Way lay before them, other First Order vessels within sight and on radar, a comforting presence, the procession moved forward. The Chiss Captain instinctively located the FIV Reprisal and then walked with Feskin back to the naval strategists huddled around a holomap to await their orders.

Ship Class: Assimilator-Class Interdictor Star Destroyer
Shield/Hull: 1200/1200
Armament: Average
Defense: High
Speed: Moderate
Hangar: 2 Squadrons of TIE Interceptors (12 each)
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/96951-assimilator-class-interdictor-destroyer
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/95958-first-order-tiein-interceptor/

Ship Name: FIV Assault
Ship Class: MANDATOR-X Artillery Dreadnaught
Shield/Hull: 1000/1000
Armament: High
Defense: Moderate
Speed: Low
Hangar: 2 Squadrons of TIE Fighters (12 each)
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/118413-mandator-x-artillery-dreadnaught/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/67814-tiefo-fighter/

Ship Name: FIV Gladiator
hip Class: MANDATOR-X Artillery Dreadnaught
Shield/Hull: 1000/1000
Armament: High
Defense: Moderate
Speed: Low
Hangar: 2 squadrons of TIE Fighters (12 each)
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/118413-mandator-x-artillery-dreadnaught/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/67814-tiefo-fighter/

Ship Name: FIV Phalanx
Ship Class: 849A 'Valor' Class, Medium Frigate
Shield/Hull: 350/350
Armament: Moderate
Defence: Average
Speed: Average
Maneuver: Average
Hangar: 2x Squadrons of TIE Raptors (8 each)
Special: Mine layers
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109837-medium-frigate-849a-valor-class/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109911-tie-raptor/

Ship Name: FIV Cyclone
Ship Class: 849A 'Valor' Class, Medium Frigate
Shield/Hull: 350/350
Armament: Moderate
Defence: Average
Speed: Average
Maneuver: Average
Hangar: 2x Squadrons of TIE Raptors (8 each)
Special: Mine layers
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109837-medium-frigate-849a-valor-class/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109911-tie-raptor/

Ship Name: FIV Goliath
Ship Class: 849A 'Valor' Class, Medium Frigate
Shield/Hull: 350/350
Armament: Moderate
Defence: Average
Speed: Average
Maneuver: Average
Hangar: 2x Squadrons of TIE Raptors
Special: Mine layers
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109837-medium-frigate-849a-valor-class/

Ship Name: FIV Avalanche
Ship Class: 849A 'Valor' Class, Medium Frigate
Shield/Hull: 350/350
Armament: Moderate
Defence: Average
Speed: Average
Maneuver: Average
Hangar: 2x Squadrons of TIE Raptors
Special: Mine layers
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109837-medium-frigate-849a-valor-class/

Ship Name: FIV Javelin
Ship Class: 849A 'Valor' Class, Medium Frigate
Shield/Hull: 350/350
Armament: Moderate
Defence: Average
Speed: Average
Maneuver: Average
Hangar: 2x Squadrons of TIE Raptors
Special: Mine layers
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109837-medium-frigate-849a-valor-class/

Ship Name: FIV Genesis
Ship Class: Fortan II Corvette
Shield/Hull: 200/200
Armament: High
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Average
Special: Decoy Probes
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/108094-fortan-ii-heavy-corvette/

Ship Name: FIV Infamy
Ship Class: Fortan II Corvette
Shield/Hull: 200/200
Armament: High
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Average
Special: Decoy Probes
Actions:
URL: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/108094-fortan-ii-heavy-corvette/

Ship Name: FIV Barbarian
Ship Class: Mukhtiar-Anti Starfighter Corvette
Shield/Hull: 171/171
Armament: Low
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Nomad
Ship Class: Mukhtiar-Anti Starfighter Corvette
Shield/Hull: 171/171
Armament: Low
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hanger: N/A
Actions: Holding at 18.02

Ship Name: FIV Storm,
Ship Class: Mukhtiar-Anti Starfighter Corvette
Shield/Hull: 171/171
Armament: Low
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Blasphemy
Ship Class: Mukhtiar-Anti Starfighter Corvette
Shield/Hull: 171/171
Armament: Low
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Revelation
Ship Class: Mukhtiar-Anti Starfighter Corvette
Shield/Hull: 171/171
Armament: Low
Defence: Average
Speed: Moderate
Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Delusion
Ship Class: Boneshatter Assault Frigate
Shield/Hull: 380/380
Armament: Very High
Defence: High
Speed: Very High
Manoeuvre: Very High
Hanger: 8 TIE Fighters
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Thunderbolt
Ship Class: Boneshatter Assault Frigate
Shield/Hull: 380/380
Armament: Very High
Defence: High
Speed: Very High
Manoeuvre: Very High
Hanger: 8 TIE Fighters
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Dishonor
Ship Class: Boneshatter Assault Frigate
Shield/Hull: 380/380
Armament: Very High
Defence: High
Speed: Very High
Manoeuvre: Very High
Hanger: 8 TIE Fighters
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Sceptre
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low
Speed: Low
Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Rift
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low
Speed: Low
Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Seeker
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Scimitar
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low
Speed: Low
Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Assault
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low
Speed: Low
Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Ship Name: FIV Fracture
Ship Class: Charger-class Escort Corvette
Shield/Hull: 160/160
Armament: Medium
Defence: Low
Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hanger: N/A
Actions:

Aryn Teth · Dec 6, 2017

Aryn Teth

The Incandescent Truth, Hyperspace

Allies: The Galactic Alliance, [member='Coren Starchaser']

Enemies: The First Order

Objective: Cut the Head off the Snake

Aryn had been on Coruscant when the call came, his meeting with the New Jedi Order cut short by the Alliance officers who had frantically drawn him and other Jedi Generals from the temple, all of them making a frantic dash to shuttles and then their ships in orbit. Aryn appreciated then that the majority of his ship had remained active and aboard the Truth as it sat in orbit, he had only been visiting Coruscant briefly for this meeting, and the crew had only recently seen some R&R, they did not need any more, and were still refreshed and ready to get back into the thick of things. By the time he'd got to the bridge, his captain was ready to meet him, passing Aryn a report which had been sent by high command following Therapy Command's rather drastic call of a red alert. As it occurred, numerous long-range scanners had detected First Order ships arriving along the Hydian Way. There were brief profiles on all of them, along with what was understood so far, interdiction and boarding was taking place.

They were attempting to blockade an entire sector of space.

The plan, the mere idea was ambitious to the point of fallacy, simply ludicrous even for the First Order. Their strength was immense and significant, but they would have their ships spread thin, slipping or breaking through would not be too difficult if the full might of the Alliance was brought to bear. As he read through the report and his crew prepared a jump to hyperspace, an almost child-like grin spread across Aryn's face as he read through one particular ship profile. The FIV Executioner, flagship of the Supreme Leader himself. The First Order had been so ambitious, so prideful, that they had brought the Supreme Leader himself to this blockade, as their great show of force? Well, if ambition was their game, Aryn could meet it in equal fashion.

Aryn smirked as he lowered the report in his hand, moving to the planning table where a hologram was being constructed of the general fleet make-ups of both sides. Chatter on comms ran through, he knew much of the fleet was on the move, including [member='Zark'] and the Itsukusk, it seemed that the First Order's demonstration of sheer force was being met with a proportionate display on the Alliance's side as well. The corner of Aryn's smile curled up somewhat, this was shaping up to be one of the largest fleet engagements of recent history, perhaps galactic history as a whole, this whole thing was like watching a great story being born. And he'd be damned if he was going to miss out on any of it.

As the Incandescent Truth made its jump to hyperspace, heading off towards the L-49 hex, Aryn glanced down once more to the profile of the Executioner as it sat before him, before reaching down to his comms. He had been with [member='Coren Starchaser'] during the meeting on Coruscant, and he knew that in the rush the fellow Jedi had been brought aboard the Truth as well. He knew Coren was a skilled Jedi, and his devotion to facing the dark side was equal to Aryn's, perhaps even greater. But more importantly than that, than anything, was that Coren was not only ambitious, but willing to take up the logical equivalent of a suicide mission. "Ask Coren to come up to the bridge, and prepare my starfighter." Aryn spoke up towards his comms officer, who nodded and glanced over to the Jedi General. "What else should I tell him, sir?" Aryn just smirked.

"Tell him we're going to cut the head off the snake."

Samka Derith · Dec 6, 2017

Location: Bridge of the FIV Concordia

- Edge of First Order space

Allies: The First Order

Enemies: The Galactic Alliance

[SIZE=11pt]She knew what was about to happen, what they were about to do.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The war was about to resume, as she had always knew it would. The First Order had only needed a pause to consolidate its fresh conquests. It offered an olive branch to the Galactic Alliance with one hand while the other sharpened a dagger behind their back. The Galactic Alliance had shown itself to be an existential threat to the First Order, it was naive of anyone to believe peace could be long lasting. The First Order could never allow the threat to remain. So when the Supreme Leader’s instructions came through, the Master of Ren had done more than expect them. She had relished them as all true patriots would.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The most remarkable thing to her about current events was just how unpatriotic the Grand Moff herself had been.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Samka Derith had stood on the bridge of the Concordia as they moved to their destination, unlike [member="Natasi Fortan"] she had kept her presence muted. The small figure of the once-gymnast kept herself to the sidelines, silently observing the officers pacing and shuffling along with their duties. As she did not call attention to herself, they knew better than to call attention to her. She felt suspicious glances, the occasional hushed whisper and the traces of fear from those who happened to meet her eye but other than that, the Ren was invisible. She didn’t need to concern herself with the bridge crew of the Concordia, those men and women would do their duty, it was the Moff who concerned her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Natasi Fortan.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The two had never directly met before but she’d heard of the woman countless times, she was even featured heavily in Samka’s reeducation process when she was first brought into the Knights of Ren in her early teens as an example, an inspiration. Here she stood, firm and strong, ready to join her people on frontlines even from her role in the civilian Government. Here she[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] lied[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt].[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Doubt and fear tarnished her heart in spite of the admirable show she made on the surface. She could hide such emotions from the grunts around her but it was not so easy to conceal feelings from a Master of the Force and of subterfuge, although Samka doubted whether the Moff was truly trying. Her heart simply wasn’t in it. Had she truly believed the farcical ceasefire negotiated at Kaeshana? If so, it was deeply disappointing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The larger than life figure of Natasi Fortan, heroine of the First Order, how much of that woman’s reputation was a fabrication? And what implications did that have for the even greater stories she had been told of [member="Sieger Ren"]. Such thoughts verged on treason and would remain private but the idea floated through her mind like a wisp of smoke which could not be blown away, clouding the values she had been so devoted to.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Be sure that our Ren friend has everything she needs and alert me in the observation deck if I am needed.” With that, the Grand Moff left the bridge.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Samka took that as her signal, glancing out of the bridge window to the stretched starlight indicating they remained in hyperspace, albeit not for much longer. Samka marched from her isolated position towards the officer whom Natasi had been speaking with, Senior Captain Carrak.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She met the officer with a light, apparently carefree smile on her youthful features. “Are my ears burning? I believe I was mentioned?” Her tone was sing-song, emphasising an unnerving contrast between her dainty, youthful looks and the chilling Dark power brewing within her[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]To his credit, the captain remained passive, any hint of fear hidden behind a proud exterior. “Orders are to make sure you’re provided for, Ma’am. Anything you require?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Oh I’m quite alright, thank you,” she beamed at the man. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I need a snack or something.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She spared another glance out of the window. The [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Concordia[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] would be moving to the heart of the fleet very shortly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Turning on her heels, Samka walked briskly toward the turbolift Natasi had used not long previously. “It’s time I show you, Captain Carrak, the power of the Dark Side,” the carefree mannerisms disappeared as she turned her back to the bridge and the real Samka Derith emerged. A woman who spoke with unquestionable authority.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She threw a last smile, significantly darker and more smug than her previous one, at the Captain as the lift doors closed around her. “Your crew is about to fight harder than they ever knew was possible.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The lift descended towards the gutted hanger and into the large Sith Battle Meditation Chamber which had help gift the fleet victory in the Omega War.[/SIZE]

Elensa Jari · Dec 6, 2017

Location | Onboard the FIV Executioner, en-route to Hex L-49

Faction | First Order, acting against the Galactic Alliance
In Vicinity | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]

It mattered not where you were in the galaxy, nor to what factions you might be aligned: war was always the same. Blue-white light tunnelled around the vessel as it hurtled through hyperspace, taking advantage of the different laws that governed this passage of subspace, viewable through the sizeable observation ports that sat forward of the command area. The bridge itself was all that could be expected of a military vessel: clean, austere, the recycled scent of the atmospheric scrubbers dampening the smell of the acrid disinfectants used to scrub the deckplates to a shine, scuffed as it was by the passage of many boots. The officers wore carefully-starched uniforms that were clearly fitted to each individual, each about their duties with the efficiency expected of a disciplined fighting force. Ready for war, and prepared to exult in it.

This was a very familiar setting indeed.

The ever-present undercurrent of fear, anticipation and adrenaline was sharp in the air, though undiscernable to all but the Force Sensitives aboard, who could sense it as a shivering murmur in the back of their minds, a silent insight into the minds of those aboard, perhaps a mirror of their own feelings. The fear was undoubtedly a result of both the fight to come and the presence of the Supreme Leader himself on the flagship - a matter of extreme consequence to those that had sworn their allegiance to the First Order. To have the leader of the entire empire here...that's a heady thing for anyone.

Elensa stood in her customary silence on the bridge, pale-blue eyes observing all that went on, playing her part as an observer while time ticked by, her thoughts more on the moment than on the battles to come, a simple reality check that demanded she not concern herself with what might happen. Her new teacher stood next to her, masked and armoured, both to intimidate and in preparation to fight, as was only appropriate for one that served in the capacity of a warrior. She, too, was similarly attired, dressed in a shadowsilk tunic and matching skirt that draped down to her ankles, though her right arm from shoulder to hand was covered in dark Charubah Steel plates, her left side covered by a short arming cloak. Her hand tightly gripped the lightsaber pike she traditionally carried, the emitter resting against her shoulder, the pommel off the floor, tapping gently against her knee.

She could sense disquiet running through her teacher, though his body language betrayed nothing but perfect stillness. Battle was no doubt an old friend of his, something he would fall into with simple familiarity when the time came, but in those hesitant moments before, she suspected he was reflecting on thoughts of past conflict, steeling himself for the blood, the sweat, the pain, and the elation of victory that ever accompanied such, that feeling that one had survived what had taken the lives of so many others. A feeling shared by all here, she mused quietly.

These were the elite of the First Order, the men and women that stood closest to the Supreme Leader, those who represented the very best they had to offer. And yet they share the same thoughts as the most common soldier in their army, the blonde woman silently reflected. How many of you will survive what comes next? How many will embrace their deaths knowing that they die for the Supreme Leader? How many will wish they had chosen a different path? Soon, she felt, they would find out. Perhaps I'll even join you in that. One simply never knew.

Taeli Raaf · Dec 6, 2017

Location: The Itsukusk, hyperspace from Sullust
Objective: Protect the ship when the time comes
Allies: Galactic Alliance [member="Zark"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] [member="Roth Tillian"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Davon Karr"] [member="Aryn Spar"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Dorn Skirata"]
Enemies: First Order [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="The Major"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

Equipment: In signature

The dam has broken...

The words whispered into her head, bringing a sigh from her lips. Reports had flown in that a First Order armada had appeared on the Rimma, which could only mean that the brittle peace forged at Kaeshana, the peace that she had known would not last, was about to break. The armada could only serve one of two purposes, neither of them peaceful in nature. Interdicting and confiscating trade vessels and cargo going to the Alliance's southern territories, or it was an attack to draw out the Alliance fleet. Either way, at the request of the Grand Marshal, she had been sent to the Alliance's command ship as it and others prepared to depart to confront the First Order.

She had taken a meditative pose on the forward part of the command deck, feeling the currents in the Force and those around her made. She had felt the Vice Admiral arriving, and she didn't need to listen to his conversation with Supreme Commander Ven to know what was going on. She could feel it around her from the bridge crew, from the multitude of men and women, of beings below decks, that were preparing to once again fight against the First Order. This time, the resolve was... this time would be different.

She didn't rise to meet or speak with the Vice Admiral and Jedi Master. No, she stayed in position, meditating... her two lightsabers laid out in front of her and her armor on. War was coming.

Zanza Hijikata · Dec 6, 2017

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Location: Sullust Space
Objectives: Prepare for Reco-Enforce|Hyperspace Jump to L49
Allies: [member="Zark"] [member="Jax Rhane"] [member="Jarck Rabsch"]
Enemies: FO Blockade [Potentially: [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Robogeber"]]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aboard Hammerhead Class Frigate The Starbeast

) and inform them we will be pairing with Red Squadron and are preparing for jump to begin recon-in-force."

Invasion As You Know, Our Blockade is Perfectly Legal | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Hex L,

The Dead God

Kiyron

Guest

Thrills, Chills, and Kills

defy the tyrannous stars

The Dead God

Member

Grand Admiral, First Order Central Command

OOC Account

B E A C O N

Jaius Sovv

Guest

Callsign: "Dancer"

Prefsbelt Commander

Sarathiel Ren

The World Eater

Character

Hellwalker

Decitus Ren

In Silent Torment

Bookworm

Atrisian Jedi Samurai

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